


Taking the Cake

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 17:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13529115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: Atlantis is celebrating its annual Winter Festival. Everyone has their part to play, but no one expected Teyla would be asked to make the cake.





	Taking the Cake

**Author's Note:**

> For the Story Works Challenge Winter Magic. This also fills my trope bingo square Food and Cooking. Beta and title credit belong to Mischief 5.

John's team, minus Teyla, sat at their usual table in the mess. No one had much to say and John couldn't blame them. Chuck walked up, temporarily lifting the air of gloom that had settled over the table. 

It didn't last. One look at his face and John knew he'd heard the news. By now, word had probably gotten out to the entire city.

"How bad do you think it will be?" Chuck asked.

"Ronon here is on the decorating team," Rodney said, his eyebrows making it clear that he considered it an iffy propsition.

"Better than you, McKay, "Ronon countered. "At least nothing I put up is going to explode."

"One time. I swear…John, are you going to let him talk to me like that." 

"Pretty much. You're a big boy, Rodney, you can handle it." John pushed his chair away from the table, putting himself out of slapping distance. Rodney could be a vindictive cuss when he wanted to be. 

"That's not what I meant, Colonel. Not that I don't agree with Dr. Weir; a winter celebration is a great idea." Chuck shifted from foot-to-foot, clearly uneasy with broaching the subject. "The cooking, sir? Is Miss Emmagan really the right person to put in charge of baking the cake?"

John sat up and raised a warning finger. "No betting on who chokes on the cake first. Is that clear, Campbell?"

"Yes, Colonel Sheppard." 

Chuck didn't look as abashed as his agreement indicated. John could only assume he had a different bet running on Teyla's cooking. He quashed the impulse to ask what it was and if he could get in on the action.

Teyla's lack of cooking skills were legendary. Every one of her attempts in the kitchen from soup to pancakes came out burnt, boiled dry, tooth-cracking hard, or required a fire extinguisher. John gingerly touched the top of his hair and mentally added singed to the list. Her cooking was as much a menace as her ability with bantos rods. Pity they couldn’t turn it into a weapon against the Wraith.

"What are you doing for the celebration, Chuck?" Rodney asked. 

"Dance music. If any of you have some suggestions that aren't Johnny Cash…? Sorry, Colonel, after you were in charge of the music last time, she specifically requested something with more dance rhythm and less lamenting."

John cast a side-long glance at Rodney, just waiting for him to start gloating. He was saved by the bell because just as Rodney opened his mouth, Chuck interrupted. "Before you say anything, Dr. McKay, Dr. Weir ixnayed the classical stuff too. According to her, you can't boogie to Mozart." Chuck shrugged. "I can't say if that's true or not. I've never tried."

The look on McKay's face was priceless. John tried to keep his own expression bland and suspected he failed when Rodney narrowed his eyes in his direction.

Ronon pushed back away from the table and stood. "I'll help you with the music if you help with the decorations. Deal?"

"Great!" 

They walked off together, leaving John wondering if they were going to have to suffer through a round of Satedan battle songs. Part of him hoped so. It would serve Elizabeth right for dissing the Man in Black. 

"Do you really think Chuck has a betting pool on Teyla's cooking?" Rodney asked.

"Forget it, McKay. It's a sucker's bet. There's no way the cake will come out edible. Jesus, don't tell her I said that."

"Right, right. Well, I've got things to do, and you have Marines to organize if things are going to be shipshape for the party." 

"Abandoning me?" 

Rodney walking off without answering. He had something up his sleeve, John knew it, but he didn't have the time right now to worry about it. The party was two days away and leaning towards war ballads and inedible dessert. Heaven only knew what Ronon and Chuck would come up with for decorations but he was sure it would involve maple leaves and possibly knives. Yep, it looked like the perfect time to take puddle jumper one out for a flight test.

~*~

The day of the party came and everyone gathered in what they were calling the reception hall. John was on his first glass of punch and passed Rodney a drink. "I have to admit it turned out okay."

"I could have done with less purple swag, and is that…" Rodney stared up at the crepe paper dangling from the ceiling. "Are those tiny maple leaves?"

John snickered into his drink. 

"Drink enough of that and you won't care what the cake tastes like," Rodney said.

"Ya think?" The cake sat in the center of the buffet table. It was a glorious if somewhat frightening concoction consisting of four stacked uneven layers. The entire cake listed slightly to the side. Teyla had made an effort to decorate the thing with flowers. Unless they were butterflies, or maybe they were supposed to be snowflakes. It was kind of hard to tell. 

John stood in the back of the room with Rodney keeping an eye on the festivities. People were mingling. Drinking and mingling, music was playing, and one brave couple started the first dance. Judging from the smiles, John considered the Winter Fest more of a success than he'd bargained on. "Hey, is that mistletoe?"

"Close enough." Rodney held a sprig of greenery over John's head. "You can't deny the power of mistletoe."

"Wouldn't dare to." Shortening the distance between them John kissed Rodney on the mouth. There was something different, an elusive, delicious taste that he decided he needed more of. He craddled Rodney's face in his hands while he explored deeper. Finally satisfied, he came up for air. It got to him, every time, how Rodney just melted in to him, giving John everything he wanted to take. One day they'd have time to explore that but right now he had a clue to investigate. "You taste like cake."

Rodney's eyes sparkled back at him. "Oh, I do, do I? I can't imagine why."

"Teyla's cake! You helped her make it!" 

"Of course not. She's an independent woman who likes to do things her own way. Do you think I want to risk offending a woman that could toss me like a sack of potatoes? But if you want to kiss me again to make sure your taste buds are working, I won't object."

John leaned in and stole another kiss because Rodney's offer was too tempting not to. "I still think you had something to do with it."

"I might have given her some instruction on basic cooking chemistry. She's a fast learner."

That might be part of it but that didn't explain the amazing flavor he'd discovered in Rodney's kiss. "What else did you do?"

Sheepishly, Rodney looked up at him through his eyelashes. God damn it, he knew that look always made John's knees weak. 

"I gave her my grand-mére's recipe. She won every baking contest in our province for more than twenty years." Rodney glanced over to the cake. "I didn't say a word about decorating it."

John grinned. With that little piece of information and the flavor of cake and Rodney on his tongue, he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

~*~

It was time to cut the cake and he was the first in line for a piece. The crowd of people hadn't so much thinned out as backed away from the dessert table. But John had insider information and if this added to his bravery-in-the-face-of-danger cred, he intended to go for it.

The first bite was as good as he expected. Not as good as the taste combined with Rodney's but he wasn't about to share that little piece of information. Amid a shocked silence from the crowd, John held up a fork-full of cake. "Dig in everyone; it's delicious!"

As everyone shuffled over to the table, still evidencing some caution, John's gaze locked with Teyla's. So there could be no doubt that he meant it when he said it was delicious, he took a big bite while she stood there watching. All around him the others were taking their first bite and appreciative noises filled the room.

Teyla glowed with well-deserved praise and John decided then that he'd make an honest attempt to eat everything she cooked from now on. He came to his senses when he risked a cracked tooth on one of the decorations. How she'd turned frosting into concrete was beyond him. Maybe he should ask Rodney. Right now, in fact.

He grabbed a second piece of cake, grabbed Rodney with his free hand, and headed for the door. Teyla could continue to have her moment in the sun without him. He was going to find out just how her cake tasted à la McKay.

~*~


End file.
